


Sounding

by FaeryQueen07



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sounding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-16
Updated: 2010-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1187361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeryQueen07/pseuds/FaeryQueen07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur has a problem and only Merlin can help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sounding

Arthur could hear the old man's voice in his head and he grimaced, half out of pain and half out annoyance that Gaius was right yet again. Stumbling over to the chamber pot, Arthur lowered the front of his trousers, then let out a roar to raise the dead. Staring down at his cock, he let out a whimper before tucking it away once more.

“ _You should be more careful, sire, where you seek your pleasures. You do not know what illnesses fester within people, and if you look outside the castle walls, let alone the kingdom, how am I to help you should you fall ill?_ ”

“Might as well call me an idiot like my useless servant would,” Arthur muttered.

He jerked around at the sound of a knock, unsurprised when the door immediately opened. Merlin's head peeked through, and for just a moment, Arthur was tempted to send him off to fetch Gaius. As court physician, Gaius had treated all manner ills and diseases, which meant he must have come across something like this before. But.

But Gaius' loyalty was to Arthur's father, and when Uther found out that his son and heir had participated in a _Bealtaine_ festival – and he _would_ find out – heads would roll. No, Arthur required absolute secrecy for this, and _Merlin_ would be the one to guarantee it.

"Get in here, Merlin!"

"Right. Sorry I'm late."

"Sire."

"Yes, right, sorry I'm late, sire."

Arthur took a deep breath, praying that this would go smoothly. "Merlin, I require your services."

Merlin's forehead wrinkled in a way that would have been charmingly adorable had he been a girl. Instead, Arthur merely found it infuriating. With a barely concealed growl, Arthur reached out and dragged Merlin into the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Is everything all right?" Merlin demanded, his blue eyes worried.

"No, everything is not _all right_. I have come under an affliction which only Gaius' potions can cure."

"Then I should go fetch him!"

"Yes. No! No, you mustn't get him. He cannot know. If Gaius finds out, he will tell my father."

"But you're ill. Your father would have to find out one way or another, anyway."

Arthur rubbed a hand over his face, tired from a restless night. He knew Merlin wasn't _trying_ to be obtuse, but that didn't ease his frustration. Throwing himself down onto the nearest chair with a grimace, Arthur let out heartfelt sigh and stared at the fire still dancing amongst the logs.

"It is not that simple, Merlin. This... _illness_ I have came from my trip to the village that lies just beyond the borders of Camelot. I stopped there during patrol, while they were preparing for a celebration." His eyes cut to Merlin, whose face was surprisingly unreadable. "They were readying themselves for the Bealtaine festivities."

"You...took part in _Bealtaine_? Wait, Bealtaine is tonight."

"They were getting ready for the actual day of festivities, if you must know. And anyway, it wasn’t a proper celebration, not like how it has been written in the books, but it was fun. There was plenty of wine and food for all, and the women..." Arthur smiled at the memory, while Merlin could only stare.

"And afterwards, you discovered you had fallen ill?"

"Ah, no. _That_ I did not discover until yesterday morning, when I attempted to, you know."

Arthur gave a negligent wave of his hand, suddenly finding the entire subject too awkward to continue. It was one thing for him to _consider_ telling his manservant that he was experiencing pain when passing urine, but to actually say the words was proving far more intimidating than he could have imagined. Unfortunately, the one thing Arthur could always count on was the thickheadedness of his servant.

"Was it a problem with your back, then? Too much dancing? Or perhaps too much wine? Is it having lingering effects?"

"I cannot urinate, Merlin!"

They both stopped short at the declaration, Arthur in horror and Merlin shock.

"Oh. Um. Right, then. So then, I suppose you want me to procure a remedy from Gaius' stores?"

"No, you halfwit, I want you to find me a sorcerer."

For a split second, Merlin believed Arthur's words and he would have revealed himself then if not for the disgusted snort that followed.

"Of _course_ I mean for you to cure me!" He waited, but when Merlin only continued to stare stupidly, he snapped. "What are you waiting for, you idiot? Go and fetch me a potion!"

"Right. I'll just go. And, um, have a look in his books." Merlin started to leave, then turned back. Before Arthur could insult him further, he asked, "What are the symptoms? I have to know, if I'm to treat you correctly."

"You mean something beyond the burning pain?" Arthur snarled, both humiliated and angry. His hand flew to his trousers and he jerked them open. " _These_ are my symptoms."

~ * ~

Merlin raced towards the rooms he shared with Gaius, trying desperately to erase the image of Arthur's... _thing_ from his mind. It was disturbing and wrong. Which had to be the reason why Merlin's stomach felt twisted and his knees were weak. It was the only explanation he could think of, and by the time he sorted through all of the books and found the potion Arthur would need, Merlin had almost convinced himself of this. Almost.

When he burst through the door to Arthur's quarters once more, Merlin was out of breath. In the bag slung over shoulder were two books and several ingredients for potions that _might_ work. He gulped as he locked the door behind him and unloaded what he had found.

"I looked up a couple of possible remedies, but are you absolutely sure we can't talk to Gaius? I tried to help the Druid boy, and nothing I did worked."

"Don't worry, Merlin, I have complete faith in you." Arthur's encouraging words lightened Merlin's spirits about the whole matter until he added, "Besides, I doubt you could make it much worse at this point. Now, _hurry up_!"

Nearly tripping in his haste to do as commanded, Merlin opened the first book and began to read through the instructions. He pulled a bowl from his bag, along with a mortar and pestle. As he began to slowly grind and mash the ingredients, Arthur stoked the fire in the hearth, then stripped off his clothes and lay on the bed. Merlin kept his gaze firmly locked on his work, reminding himself that he really couldn't afford to mess this up because he was distracted. By Arthur. By a _naked_ Arthur. Merlin gulped, silently chastised himself again and focused on completing the potion.

"Should it be taking this long?" Arthur demanded.

"No. If I were a trained physician, it wouldn't. However, since I am not, and since I'm certain you don't want me accidentally making your, er, making _it_ fall off, I have go a bit more slowly. Sire." Merlin only tacked on the formal address to lessen the bite of his words.

"Oh."

Arthur lapsed into silence again. As he waited for Merlin to finish making all of the potions, Arthur planned out the next day's training for his knights. It helped to distract him from the awkwardness of his current situation, but it was also a legitimate way to pass the time. It was like killing two foes with one thrust of the sword.

His mind halted for a moment on the word thrust, then conjured up an image of the village wench he had spent the night with. She had been saucy, her raven hair flying through the air as she danced with her friends, her blue eyes flashing in the firelight. Her lithe body had moved sinuously and Arthur had fancied himself in love at first sight. There had been something terribly familiar about her, too, which is what had drawn him to her.

He sighed as his cock stirred; there was nothing he could do about it, as even touching himself was proving painful. To distract himself from thoughts of sinful lips and daring fingers, Arthur glanced over at Merlin’s bowed figure. He had been intending to say something insulting, but the words died on his tongue. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Arthur stared hard.

Merlin could have passed for the young woman’s twin, Arthur realized with a start. Granted, he lacked breasts and his hair was much shorter than hers had been. The first wasn’t something Arthur could easily overlook, but the hair...the only drawback to Merlin’s hair being short was that Arthur had always had a bit of a weak spot for pulling girls’ hair. Especially in bed. _Not_ that Merlin was a girl, or would ever be in Arthur’s bed. Because he wouldn’t.

Arthur collapsed back against his pillows, only to sit up again when Merlin pronounced, “I think I’ve got it.”

“Well?”

Merlin refused to meet Arthur’s eyes as he thrust the bowl towards him. “It has to be applied to the affected area. It would probably be best if you did it yourself.”

Arthur had a mind to say, _you’re damn right I’ll do it myself_ , but then he noticed the blush staining Merlin’s cheeks and his need to bully won out. “Merlin.”

“Yes, sire?”

“What is my title?”

“Arthur, Crown Prince of Camelot?” The words escaped before Merlin could censor them, and he winced.

“Yes, and what is _your_ title?”

Merlin wasn't entirely certain that the sound he heard wasn’t his own whimper. “Your manservant. Sire?”

“Correct. And as a servant to the Crown Prince, it is your duty to take care of me.” He glared pointedly.

“Yes, sire,” Merlin sighed, and he took a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve made all four remedies just in case, which is why it took me so long. Three have to be applied, but one can be taken orally. I also made a potion to treat the pain so if nothing else works, you can take that while I look for a real cure.”

“Good.”

Merlin’s hand shook as he dipped his fingers into the mixture and brought them to Arthur’s groin. He would have liked to continue not looking at this particular area, but he doubted he could apply the potion with his eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, Merlin reached out to grasp Arthur’s cock gently with one hand while slowly spreading the concoction over the affected area. He bit his lip when Arthur gasped, but refrained from making eye contact.

“Sorry if it hurts,” Merlin mumbled after the second hiss of breath.

“It doesn’t. It just feels...odd.”

Merlin did the lip thing again and Arthur found he couldn’t stop looking at him. He had heard a few of the maids whispering about Merlin’s cheeks one day, but until just then, he had never understood the girls’ fascination with bone structure. Now, however, Arthur had to admit that Merlin’s face was rather well-defined. In fact...

“Why are you staring at me?”

Merlin’s tone was wary and Arthur was mildly annoyed by the implied insult. Not _everything_ he did was because he enjoyed making Merlin uncomfortable. On second thought, yes it was. His lips curled up in a predatory fashion and he noted the shiver that stole over Merlin’s slender frame.

“I was just thinking that your face is more suited for a courtier woman. Fine bone structure, stunning eyes.” He paused as though considering his next words. “I wonder if you would fit any of Morgana’s dresses.”

Arthur had to bite back a groan when Merlin’s grip tightened reflexively and he questioned the intelligence of taunting the person holding his manhood. It certainly wasn’t his brightest move ever, but he did so enjoy the way the tips of Merlin’s ears turned red when he blushed. Aware that he was quite possibly at risk of ending the Pendragon line, Arthur leaned in close to whisper something rude in Merlin’s ear.

At the same moment, Merlin turned to speak. “I don’t think this one—”

Merlin and Arthur jerked apart, their eyes wide with shocked horror. Arthur was the first to regain the use of his tongue, and he snapped, “You kissed me!”

“I did not! I was trying to tell you that the potion wasn't working. It’s not _my_ fault you had your face so close to mine.”

While Arthur knew that Merlin had a point, he wasn’t about to admit it. “You should be more aware, Merlin. You’re always so _oblivious_. It’s amazing you haven’t been killed yet. And what do you mean the potion isn’t working? You’ve only just put it on.”

“Yes, well, it was supposed to change color. Or at least turn dark.”

Arthur frowned and glanced down at his cock. Merlin seemed to notice that his fingers were still wrapped around it at the same time Arthur did, and he snatched his hand away as though burned. Arthur just smirked and ignored the tightness in his gut. It was worry, he told himself, over what might be wrong with him. And he certainly wasn't getting hard because his servant was touching him.

“Right, well, let’s try the next one, then. This one will take a bit longer, though. You’ll have to lie there for at least an hour.”

“I’ll miss dinner!”

“I’ll fetch you something. I’ll, um, tell the king you were feeling a bit under the weather and that you asked me to bring your meal to your room.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “You are not to tell him the truth. Is that understood?”

“Of course. Sire,” Merlin tacked on hastily, lest Arthur think he was being cheeky.

“Very well then, carry on.” Arthur had intended to use the most imperious tone possible, but he had underestimated the time it would take for Merlin to grab the second potion. His voice cracked on the last word as warm fingers enveloped him once more. Arthur swallowed hard and closed his eyes, praying that the whole thing would end quickly.

~ * ~

Three hours later, Arthur was certain that if Merlin so much as _looked_ at his cock again, he was going to come. It was embarrassing to be so turned on by something as trivial as a servant’s hands on his body, but Arthur’s cock didn’t seem to care. What was worse, Merlin was now inspecting it. _Inspecting_ it! Which meant that every time Merlin exhaled, Arthur could feel it in a way that left no doubt in his mind as to the reason he was excruciatingly hard. He wondered, inanely, if he could joust with the damn thing in its current condition.

“All right, I think I’ve figured out the problem.”

It took a few moments for Merlin’s voice to penetrate the fog in Arthur’s mind, but when it did, Arthur became completely focused on him.

“Well?”

Merlin looked slightly uncomfortable. “It doesn’t look like you actually have an illness. That’s not say that something isn’t wrong,” he hurried to say when it looked like Arthur might shout at him. “From what I can tell, it’s more that it’s inflamed, rather than suffering from something that might be incurable.”

“Then what do we need to do,” Arthur bit out, fisting his hands at his sides to keep from strangling the relieved look off Merlin’s face.

“Um, well, that’s the part you might not like.”

“What I would _like_ , _Mer_ lin, is to be able to relieve myself sometime today. Whatever it is, it cannot be _that_ bad.”

“We need to, uh, open it up.”

Arthur could feel the blood drain his face and spots began to dance in front of his eyes. “You want to _cut. It. Open_?”

“What? NO! Nothing like that! God, no. I just—we need—I’d have to...I’d have to use something to widen it. The, er, hole.” The last word was barely a whisper but it seemed to echo through the room nonetheless.

“Widen it. And how, pray tell, are you planning to do that?”

It should have been impossible, but Merlin managed to blanch _and_ blush all at the same time. Arthur would have been amused if they hadn’t been discussing what was possibly going to entail the mutilation of his cock.

“Well, I’d need to find something that would, ah, fit. And then I’d have to insert it.”

“Insert it.” Arthur felt faint.

“Yes, but Gaius has a balm we can use. It shouldn’t hurt if we use that.”

“You’re certain.”

Merlin’s face said no, but aloud he replied, “Yes.”

“Fine. Find this balm and then return here immediately.”

Merlin nodded and fled, not bothering to collect the used phials scattered over Arthur’s table. When he returned several minutes later, Arthur had already worked himself into a state of near panic. He was about to trust Merlin, incompetent, clumsy _Merlin_ , to insert something that was probably quite dangerous _into his cock_.

It was galling, the way Merlin soothed his hand over Arthur's stomach, while making quiet shushing sounds. Arthur was just about to snap at him when Merlin pulled a long cloth pouch from the pack at his side and unrolled it on the bed. Instead, Arthur just stared in growing horror at the long, thin metal rod, because while he had known what would have to happen, he really hadn’t _known_.

“Merlin, perhaps this isn’t such a good idea after all.”

“Sire— _Arthur_ , do you trust me?” Merlin’s hands stilled as he caught Arthur’s gaze.

Arthur was half-tempted to say that yes, with things _not_ his cock, he trusted Merlin more than anyone else, but he knew that was a lie. Even in this he trusted Merlin. Implicitly. He nodded, not certain he could form any actual words, and turned his gaze to the ceiling.

The clink of the metal rods rolling against one another was decidedly loud, and Arthur felt his breath catch. He had faced down snakes coming out of a shield, a griffin, the Questing Beast and all sorts of other strange and dangerous creatures and yet none of them had ever made him quite this nervous. The kind of nervous that made him want to run away and hide.

“Okay, under normal circumstances, this doesn’t hurt, but there might be a bit of a burn because the area is inflamed. Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?”

Arthur opened his mouth to say ‘yes,’ but found himself asking, “And just how do you know that?” instead.

“That, I think, is a story for another day, Sire,” Merlin replied.

Merlin opened a jar of oil, coated the fingers of one hand in it and carefully set it aside before reaching for Arthur’s cock. It would need to be hard for this to work and he hoped that he would be forgiven for the indignity, or at least not punished. With a softly murmured apology, he grasped Arthur and began to stroke, struggling all the while to keep his breathing even. There was a strangled sound from the head of the bed and when he chanced a glance up he could see the blush staining Arthur’s cheeks.

“I visited the hunting dogs today,” Merlin said, hoping to distract Arthur. “One of the bitches gave birth. All healthy, strong looking puppies.” Arthur grunted and Merlin took that to mean he should continue. He reached for the thinnest rod on the cloth, slicked it with oil and slowly started to insert it. “Your horse threw a shoe trying to kick the new stable boy. I had it fixed and told the boy to stay away from it. I think you’ve spoiled that horse.”

“You mean _you’ve_ spoiled it, what with the constant treats,” Arthur wheezed. “Oh, shit, stop.”

Merlin froze, brow knit with worry. “More oil?”

“I just—”

“Yes, all right.” Merlin shut up and turned his full attention to the matter at hand. Clearly it was more inflamed than he had thought, and he pulled the rod out to slick it with more oil. “Arthur, it’s going to hurt no matter what I do, but....”

“But. What.”

“I can take the edge off. Of the pain.”

There was a short, sharp laugh at that. “And how do you propose to do that.”

“Promise you won’t have me flogged? Or left in the dungeons for an indefinite amount of time?”

“Merlin, I will give every other Wednesday off if you _please hurry_.”

Merlin nodded, more to himself than anything else as Arthur was still staring resolutely up at the ceiling, and tipped more oil onto his other hand. Returning his grip to Arthur’s cock, he began making leisurely strokes up and down, dragging a nail along the thick vein on the underside. There was a gasp and Arthur shuddered, but when no threats were made against his life, Merlin relaxed.

For each short slide in, Merlin tightened his grip and caressed, careful to keep his lips sealed against the words of praise and encouragement. When the rod finally reached the halfway mark, he withdrew it completely and reached for the next size. It would be a bit more of a stretch, but they needed to widen the area so that urine could pass without crippling Arthur.

As he pressed in the newest rod, Merlin moved his fingers up Arthur's length to the purpled head until he reached the foreskin. Merlin delicately traced along its edge, gently slipping a nail beneath the edge teasingly. Arthur arched into the touch, the groan he had been holding back finally breaking free. When Merlin's hand slipped down to cup his balls, Arthur gave up all pretense of dignity and moaned.

The pain that had been plaguing Arthur for several days disappeared completely as Merlin's caresses grew bolder. The rod had been replaced by one of slightly larger girth, but Arthur felt no discomfort, only pleasure. As caught up as he was with each stroke to his cock – inside and out – Arthur found himself moving closer and closer to the precipice.

Merlin pulled the rod free when he saw Arthur's eyebrows draw together as though to convey pain, and thinking he had hurt Arthur somehow, he leaned in to inspect the area. The skin was reddened, so Merlin, without really thinking, gripped Arthur's cock in one hand and blew gently across the head, wanting only to relieve. Arthur gave a startled shout – Merlin's only warning – and then he was coming hard, painting ropes of it over Merlin's startled face.

There was a long moment of silence in which Arthur could only lie there miserably, humiliation burning through him hot on the tail of his fading orgasm. He opened his mouth twice to apologise, eyes still locked on Merlin’s stunned expression, but no words would come.

When Merlin finally moved, it was to reach up and swipe at the string of come clinging to his eyelashes. “I think—I think we at least know that everything is fine down there.” Merlin brought his finger to his mouth, full lips closing around the digit as he licked it clean, seemingly without a thought. “You eat a lot of sweets when I’m not looking don’t you?” Merlin asked after a moment, then he blushed deeply at the implication of his words.

“Merlin, I didn’t mean to...”

“But if you did,” Merlin said, cutting Arthur off. “If you did, I wouldn’t have minded. Still won’t.”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat, and for an impossibly long moment he could only stare at Merlin. “You would...With me?”

Merlin’s smile was remarkably shy given that he still had Arthur’s come decorating his face, and that he had just spent the day becoming intimately acquainted with Arthur’s cock. His voice was steady, though, when he replied. Steady and sincere.

“Yes. Yes, I would.”

Then Merlin leaned down to press his lips to Arthur’s, tentative yet deliberate. With a sigh, Arthur took over the kiss, already planning out their next interaction. And all the ones after that as well.


End file.
